Gone South
by Keesha
Summary: Briggs latest meet goes south requiring a rescue by all his housemates. Set prior to S1EP7.
1. Chapter 1

Usual disclaimer. Own nothing. No infringement intended. Just playing with them and will neatly put back on the shelf when I am done. Love reviews, good and bad if constructive. First venture into this series. Still learning the speech patterns, etc., bit harder with so many new characters. Set before episode seven as Mike still does not know Briggs' secret.

-Graceland-

It had gone south fast, too fast for any hope of a graceful recovery. Briggs had been doing a routine meet and greet with what was supposed to be a low-level drug dealer in anticipation of forming an alliance that would bring him closer to the man at the top; one of the East Coast's leading drug distributors who had shown an interest in diversifying on the West Coast. Mike was nearby listening. Briggs could have done this alone but how else was the kid supposed to pick up the craft; listen and learn.

A cool breeze was blowing off the water and Paul was glad he had his black leather jacket on to ward off the chill. Glancing down at the ocean, he watched the swells fifteen feet below. The sea was fairly calm this evening, no good for surfing he mused. Shifting his gaze up the pier, he saw three guys walking in his direction; he'd bet a week's salary that they were his contacts. Casually studying the trio from behind his Ray-Bans, he chuckled. They were so East-Coast-Preppy it hurt, with their bright polo shirts, khakis and Sperrys; not his typical cliental. Maybe he should have let the kid take this meet; Mike was fresh off the Quantico boat and probably had more in common with these preppies then Briggs.

As they drew nearer, the blondest yuppie from the threesome stepped forward. "I'm Mark. You Paul?" he asked as he stuck out his hand in greeting.

"Yep." Shaking at a meeting was odd, must be an East Coast thing Paul thought. What he also found interesting was the hard squeeze the Mark gave his hand; a definite power play. A quick study told Paul all he needed to know, this guy might look like a lackadaisical frat-boy but he was really all business and one hundred percent dangerous. Briggs was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake in taking this meet and greet so lightly.

The blond released Brigg's hand then crossed his well-chiseled forearms over his Nautica-clad chest. "A friend told me you might be able to help diversify our product line."

Playing the game, Brigg's shifted his stance to match that of his rival. "Yeah. Diversification. Good for everyone."

"You can hook us up with top drug suppliers?"

Paul held up his hands in caution. "Whoa there. No details here man," he said agitatedly scanning the semi-crowded pier. "This is not the time and certainly not the place. Transaction details will be discussed at a future meeting if," Briggs dropped his hands back to his side, "I think things feel right."

Briggs inner-level of nervousness increased when he realized Mark's men had silently maneuvered around him so he was boxed in; not a good sign. However, he maintained his cool, arrogant façade even if he was growing progressively uneasy.

Mark took a step closer to Briggs, invading his personal space. "Why should I trust you? I hear the West Coast is crawling with undercover cops."

"No more than the East Coast I'm sure," Briggs shot back with a slight cock of his head.

Mark laughed as he dropped his hands into his jacket pockets. "Probably true. So what do you bring to the table?"

"Think of me like your West Coast real-estate agent. I'm here to tell you which neighborhoods you want to live in, where to shop, and how to avoid hassles. As a local agent I have lots of connections that are invaluable as you set up your household."

"Why can't we do this without you? We have bought many houses back East."

Briggs snorted giving them a pointed once-over-look. "No offense man, but you stick out like a polar bear at a penguin's only party."

"And what is in this for you?"

"Money," the dark-haired FBI agent answered succinctly. Briggs quickly surveyed the busy pier.

"Are you expecting someone?" the blond asked warily noting Briggs distraction.

"No. But I feel a bit conspicuous, surrounded by three brightly attired prep-boys. Not my usual crowd. We need to wrap this up. You interested in my services or not?"

Briggs instincts to be worried were spot on when two street cops, who were patrolling the pier, started to purposely move in their direction. One of the bodyguards also saw the cops and hissed, "Boss, cops."

Mark grabbed Briggs by the sides of his leather jacket and roughly slammed him back against the pier's railing. "You set us up?"

Surrounded and outnumbered, Briggs knew fighting was not the optimal solution so he tried to talk his way out. Shoving back he growled, "#uck you. I think you set me up. You wired? Are the #ucking cops listening to us?"

The guy was good Briggs had to admit because he never saw the knife until it ripped thru his jeans slicing his thigh. Before he could mount a counterattack, the bodyguards pinned his arms while their Boss stabbed him in the shoulder causing blood to run down his torso. Before Mark could do anymore damage, one of the thugs said "Boss we gotta go now!"

"Toss this piece of shit into the ocean," and before Briggs could do anything he was propelled over the railing, free-falling towards the ocean below. The three men then took off in a hurry. The two policemen started after them, suspicious because in their experience innocent people did not run away unless they are up to no good. Neither officer noted that a fourth man had been tossed into the ocean.

When the men had surrounded Briggs, Mike had started moving quietly towards the group. Suddenly, he saw a flurry of activity, but from his angle, Mike did not see that his partner had been stabbed before he was tossed into the ocean. Sprinting to the railing, he saw Agent Briggs splash into the water below. The deepening twilight made it difficult to determine if Briggs had surfaced, but Mike was not overly concerned since the man was an excellent swimmer. He was sure Briggs would simply surface and swim to shore. After scanning the darkened sea for a few more minutes, Mike decided his best bet was to head down to the beach; Briggs would be pissed at how this meet had turned out and would not want to wait around for Mike to show up so they could go home.

When Briggs hit the water, his whole body momentarily relaxed; water was his friend. However, he quickly realized his leather jacket was not his buddy as the weight of it threatened to drag him back under the ocean's surface. Hating to lose his favorite jacket, but knowing he had no choice, the wounded man struggled to get out of it. Concentrating on getting the damn jacket off, Briggs failed to notice how close to the pilings the waves had pushed him. His first unpleasant inkling of their exact location came as a wave lifted him then slammed his back and shoulders into the barnacle encrusted poles. Had this happened before he had shed his black leather jacket, his back and shoulders would have been saved from the grinding and scraping of the sharp marine crustaceans. The string of curses he let loose as he was flayed by the creatures ceased when the next wave submerged him again. The only thing that ran through his mind as he struggled to reemerge, was the warning that they had given Mike when they were teaching him to surf, stay away from the pier, it's dangerous.

When he finally resurfaced, Briggs took his own advice and made an effort to swim away from the treacherous submerged poles. The water temperature was cold and without a wet suit to keep him warm, he quickly felt his strength being depleted as he struggled to swim towards the shore. It also didn't help that he was bleeding and his adrenaline rush was wearing off causing him to crash.

By this time Mike had made it on to the beach and was scanning the surf for signs of Briggs. The bright lights from the pier were useful, providing a soft glow on the ocean's surface. Mike thought he spotted something in the nearby surf so he dashed into the water after pulling off his shoes. "Briggs!" he shouted and the dark shape raised its head. Mike moved to intercept and the two met on the crest of a wave which propelled them closer to the shore before breaking on their heads. Mike quickly resurfaced discovering it was shallow enough to stand. He felt something bump into his legs as the backwash of the wave started to recede into the ocean. Realizing it was Briggs, Mike quickly grabbed the older man by his belt to stop him from being dragged out to sea.

Finally registering the sandy bottom beneath his feet, Briggs struggled to stand and Mike tried to help. Briggs wanted to scream at Mike because he was causing the wound on his shoulder to tear open and bleed even more, but the dark-haired man bit his lip knowing he was too wiped out to get ashore on his own. The two men emerged from the surf and stumbled their way up the beach beyond the high tide mark where they both dropped to the sand, worn out. Briggs landed on his knees, his head bowed so low his forehead nearly brushed the sand. Mike dropped on his butt and quickly reached for his phone to see if it worked. Mike thanked his cautious nature which had made him buy a waterproof case a few days after hitting the West Coast. His phone lit up in the gloom of the night and chirped companionably as he started to dial. Briggs heard the sound of dialing and his hand flashed out grabbing the phone from Mike. He quickly stabbed the end conversation button.

"Why did you do that?" Mike asked clearly puzzled by Briggs actions. "I was dialing for help."

"No," Briggs rumbled, clutching Mike's phone. Unfortunately, his ordeal was rapidly overwhelming his body and Briggs started to shiver uncontrollably which caused him to drop Mike's phone in the sand. The other agent reached over and snatched it back.

"Help me up to the bench over there," Briggs demanded through chattering teeth as Mike shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Other side," Briggs directed when Mike tried to support him on his bad side. Mike obediently moved to the other side of the man draping Briggs' arm over his shoulder in support. The two men slowly made their way across the sand to a nearby bench. Like his bones had been melted, Briggs collapsed onto the wooden bench; Mike used the light of a nearby street lamp to study him. "Damn Briggs, you are seriously hurt!" he said spotting the blood stains and ripped clothing. "I'm calling for an ambulance."

Paul marshaled his strength, reached out and knocked the phone from Mike's hand. The unit skittered across the concrete coming to rest against a nearby trash receptacle. "What the hell Briggs," Mike grumbled as he went over to retrieve his phone.

"Go get the car Warren," Briggs ordered in a voice that brooked no argument.

Mike moved back towards the bench like a hopefully puppy. "So you want me to drive you to the hospital?"

"No hospital," Paul ground out between shivers. "Home."

Mike eyebrows rose as he stared at his trainer clearly believing he had lost his mind. "You need professional medical care."

With his last reserve of energy, Briggs burst off the bench and grabbed Mike roughly by his soggy shirt. "I…need…you…to…drive…me…home!" he snarled.

Mike took an involuntary step backwards at the force of Brigg's words and the dangerous looking gleam in his brown eyes. "Alright. Whatever you say," he agreed.

Briggs fumbled his way back to the bench. "I'll wait…here."

Mike gave a curt nodded before heading off, fully intending to call for help the minute he was out of outsight. Rounding the corner, he reached for his phone only to discover it was missing. Damn Briggs must have lifted it. Screw this Mike thought. I'll drive him to Graceland and his roommates deal with the crazy man; he'd had enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Back on the bench, Briggs shoved Mike's phone into the back pocket of his jeans. He had no doubts the kid would have called for help the minute he was out of sight. Mike didn't understand Briggs insistence for not seeking medical aid but then again the kid didn't know his deep dark secret either and Briggs wanted to keep it that way. His stomach roiled and he leaned over the nearby planter and puked. That activity left him weaker and he struggled to remain conscious. He must have drifted off a bit since Mike's voice startled him. "The cars over there. Let me help you up," Mike said moving to Briggs' less injured side.

To Briggs, the walk to the Bronco seemed endless and he collapsed in an exhausted heap in the passenger seat. Mike buckled him in before climbing behind the wheel. On the drive back to Graceland, Mike occasionally glanced over at this passenger who hadn't moved, other than to sporadically shiver. When they arrived home, he shut off the car, self-consciously cleared his throat and said, "Ah, we're home."

Briggs' dark brown eyes struggled opened. Gratefully recognizing Graceland, the injured man attempted to unbuckle his seat belt and exit the vehicle. The belt part went pretty smoothly but if Mike hadn't scurried around the car, Briggs would have found himself kissing the driveway. "Lean on me," Mike suggested. Should they have been observed by an outsider, it would appear that the younger man was assisting his inebriated colleague into the house. Once inside, Mike steered them towards the couch in the family room but Briggs had other ideas. "My room."

Mike eyed the staircase with trepidation. He and Briggs were nearly matched in the height and weight department; if they were girls they would probably be able to share clothes. However, Mike wasn't sure if he'd be able to get his trainer up the stairs; wouldn't that look great in his personnel file, 'Top graduate at FBI kills trainer by dropping him down a flight of stairs'. But Briggs was not a man to be stopped and he was already dragging Mike towards the staircase. About halfway up the stairs, Mike started cursing silently; why did Briggs' bedroom have to be so far from the front door? By the time they reached their destination, Mike was whacked and unceremoniously dumped Briggs onto the bed. He felt a pang of remorse when Briggs hit the mattress and let out an involuntary moan.

"Michael," his weak voice rose from the bed as he tried to find a comfortable position, "Go get a bottle of rum from downstairs."

Still working to catch his own breath, Mike looked over at his prone partner. "Give me a sec, huh. I think you're solid muscle," he panted.

"Of course I am. Tae Bo."

Mike chuckled as he slowly rose from the end of the bed; even half-dead Briggs was still cocky. "You want a glass with the bottle?"

"Hell no. And hurry, before I pass out."

"Why don't you skip the rum and just pass out?" Mike joked as he headed for the door.

A weak snigger rose from the bed. "Where's the fun in that?" But the joke became reality when Briggs eyes closed and he passed out. Concerned, Mike hurried back to the bed and laid two fingers against Paul's cardiac artery. He gave a small sigh of relief when he found a fairly strong pulse.

Mike turned to leave again figuring that bottle of rum better be on Briggs' night table before he woke up. He almost made it to the door when he remembered that Briggs still had his phone. Mike walked back over to the bed and gingerly removed his phone from the agents back pocket.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Mike went down stairs and plopped on the couch. Running his hands thru his dirty blond hair, he tried to release some of the tension in his body. Barely out of the academy and here he was sitting in a beach house in Southern California, his trainer upstairs, hurt but refusing to seek medical attention and Mike had no damn idea what to do next; this was so not in the manual. Dejectedly, Mike looked around the empty house; where were his roommates? It seemed like they were always underfoot when he did not want them and now, when he could use their help, they were nowhere to be found. Glancing up the stairs he made up his mind, pulled out his phone, and dialed Charlie.

Charlie answered on the third ring and Mike could hear loud music in the background. "Hey Mikey. What's up? You and Paul back yet? We're down at The Drop. Come on down and party!"

"Ah yeah, would love to but I have a little situation here. Briggs is injured."

Charlie's voice immediately switched to all concern. "How bad is he hurt? You at the house?"

"Yeah. I don't know how bad it is really. I mean I saw blood and he is passed out on his bed. I did check his pulse and it was strong," he added almost apologetically.

"There's blood?" Charlie asked as she moved across the bar to gather the rest of the team.

"Yeah."

"Alright. Hang tight Mike. We'll be there in fifteen."

Jakes and Paige, who had been listening to one side of the phone call asked, "Who's hurt?"

"Paul," she tossed over her shoulder as she hurried over to where Johnny was hanging with two co-eds.

"Oh my God," Paige said signaling the waitress for their tab.

Charlie rudely burst into the middle of Johnny's little tete-a-tete. "Gotta go. Now!"

"Go on without me Sister," he replied turning his attention back to his companions.

"Not likely!" she replied tugging on his arm.

"Come on. Can't you see I am..."

Charlie leaned in and softly said "Briggs is hurt."

Johnny's whole demeanor rapidly shifted. "Sorry ladies. I have to go. Next time though," he apologized with a grin. Both girls pouted a bit but it was a waste of time as Johnny dashed after Charlie, Paige and Jakes as they headed back to Graceland.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike sat on the couch for a few minutes more after hanging up with Charlie. What a night so far. Briggs' request for the rum came back to him and he figured he'd better get on it in case his mentor woke up.

Getting up, he walked to where the liquor was kept and searched the large selection until he found the rum. Grabbing a glass, he headed back upstairs to Agent Briggs room. The dark haired man was still passed out practically face first in the pillow. Mike set the bottle down on the night table then took a harder looked at the sprawled agent. The back of Briggs' grey t-shirt was shredded and bore blood stains. At some point in the escapade, Briggs must have physically come in contact with something pretty rough on the pier. Moving his eyes to the front of the unconscious man, Mike noted a large tear and serious blood stains around the right shoulder area and a second large rip in the acid washed jeans on the upper thigh, again with telltale blood stains. 'Damn,' Warren thought. 'Those guys got Paul good before tossing him off the pier.'

Briggs was a mess and Mike again worried that maybe he should call 911. How much blood had the agent lost? Then, a Hector's cautionary note entered his mind; calling medical assistance to the house, could that burn it? No one had told him if that was a house rule. He knew no one but agents upstairs, no guns downstairs and he who eats Jakes' food does it at their own risk; but no one had told him what the rule was about a bleeding agent in the bedroom needing medical assistance. Luckily, before Mike could work himself into any more of a panic, the front door slammed shut.

"Mike!" Charlie yelled.

"Up here. Briggs' room."

Four sets of footsteps pounded up the stairs and they all tried to pile through the door at once. Charlie and Johnny made it thru first with Paige and Jakes bringing up the rear. Charlie ran around the bed to the unconscious agent's side and checked his pulse. "How long as he been like this Mike?"

Mike glanced down at his watch. "Maybe 25 minutes? But before that he was alert and conscious."

Paige and Jakes stood by the far side of the bed and watched as Charlie lightly ran her fingers over Briggs body. The man stirred slightly, moaning.

"Hey Paulie. Rise and shine."

Briggs slowly cracked open his eyes and tried to focus on the voice calling his name.

"That's it Babe. Open those sexy brown eyes for me." As Paul struggled back to consciousness, Charlie glanced over at Jakes. "Go get the first aid supplies." With a short nod of his braided head, Jakes left the room. Paige moved closer and gently stroked Paul's jet black curls. "Come on sleeping beauty," she cajoled.

Briggs regained full consciousness then shook his head slightly letting out a pain-filled groan. "Warren," he growled softly. "Where the #uck is that rum!"

Mike and Johnny, who were standing over by the fireplace, looked at each other silently agreeing to let Charlie take the lead. "Are you sure you want to do that?" she asked Briggs gently.

Struggling to sit up, the wounded agent did his best to intimidate his housemates. "Give me the god damn bottle!" he demanded eyeing the object of his desire on the nearby table. Charlie shrugged, uncapped the bottle and handed it to Paul who took a large swig, spilling some down the front of his torn shirt.

"There's a glass there," Mike pointed out helpfully. Briggs debated throwing the bottle at his smart-assed trainee but decided that he needed the rum in him more than on Mike; he'd get even later with the chore wheel.

Jakes returned to the room with the first aid kit and saw Briggs downing the rum like there was no tomorrow; the bottle was more than half empty already. "You shouldn't be doing that Briggs," Jakes pointed out as he walked around the bed. Jakes figured the only reason Briggs didn't give him the finger along with his string of imaginative curses, was Briggs couldn't move one arm and the other was busy holding the bottle. Jakes gave a little shrug and placed the first aid kit on the chair near the windows. "Hope you don't have a concussion."

Briggs took another drag from the bottle while Mike answered the non-question. "Agent Briggs was conscious the whole time until we got back to the house and then he passed out, probably from exhaustion."

"Thank you Dr. Mike. You have any real medical training kid? Besides what you read in a book?" Jakes asked sarcastically.

"Ah. No."

"Alright then. I guess I'll take it from here."

"Jakes went to medical school for a while," Paige explained to Mike.

"Another idol experience for the rich man's son," Johnny added which earned him the evil eye from Jakes. "Just saying Bro."

Jakes ignored Johnny and focused back on Briggs, who was rapidly getting on the south side of sober. "How are you feeling?"

Briggs gave him a tight smile. "Starting to feel no pain."

"Ah huh. Well that's going to change real soon," Jakes predicted as he eyed the man on the bed. "You're still bleeding," he pointed out.

"Huh. Where?" Briggs said without much interest as he took another swig.

"Don't know. Can't tell with all your clothes on but I'm pretty sure you're going to have use some heavy duty stain removers on that sheet," he noted and they all followed his eyes to the bright red spot spreading across the cream sheets.

"Huh," Briggs said again as he drained the last of the liquid from the bottle. A troubled frown creased his forehead. "Warren. Go find me another bottle of rum my man." Mike looked at Charlie who discreetly shook her head no.

"No."

The rest of the housemates cringed in disbelief and Charlie quickly grabbed the empty rum bottle from Briggs before he could throw it at Mike.

"Dude. You're not supposed to reply if you want to stay alive," Johnny advised Mike.

"Noted," Mike replied.

Jakes over rode the moment. "Come on Briggs. We gotta get those clothes off so I can see what we're dealing with here." He motioned Johnny and Mike over to provide assistance. Mike noticed that the girls made no move to leave the room and he looked questioningly at Johnny. "Should they, ah, stay here?" he asked delicately.

Johnny grinned at him and answered in a very non-discreet voice. "Why? Cause of the blood? Chicks are way better at handling blood then a lot of men. Or do you mean because we are about to strip Briggs naked?"

Mike cringed and Johnny shrugged. "No issue there either Bro. Charlie and Briggs have gotten it on, so no secret there; cost me a weeks' worth of bar tabs," he scowled at the parties in question and Briggs gave Charlie a sloppy wink.

"And I have seen Paul pad around the house in his tight, black, low-rise briefs. Doesn't take much to surmise what is in that package," Paige added suggestively.

"Hey Mike. May be it would be best if you kept your mouth shut for a bit. You are working on strike three," Johnny suggested.

Jakes had enough. "Charlie, move. Johnny, Mike, come help me sit him up again," since once deprived of his bottle, Briggs had laid back down. Charlie moved to the other side of the bed with Paige and the boys moved on either side of Paul and helped maneuver him upright. Once uprights emu-vertical, Jakes eyed the man with a bit of hesitation because Briggs clothes were stuck to his wounds. It was going to hurt when they tried to take them off. Sighing, he addressed the FBI guys again. "Stand him up. Let's get those jeans off first." Johnny and Mike got Briggs on his feet but had to keep a tight grip on him to stop him from toppling over. Putting the awkwardness of the situation behind him, Jakes reached over and undid Paul's black belt, unzipped his jeans and pulled them down his slim hips.

"Told you," Paige said to no one in particular as Paul's underwear choice came into view.

"Briggs, this will hurt as I pull your jeans over that wound in your thigh," Jakes warned the agent.

Briggs turned his head to stare at Mike. "Maybe it would hurt less if someone had gotten me another bottle of rum."

"You put any more rum in you, Paulie, and you'll suffer alcohol poisoning," Charlie replied.

While Briggs was somewhat distracted, Jakes eased the jeans over the wound and he knew Briggs felt it because the injured man's head whipped around to stare at him. Jakes ignored the 'if-looks-could-kill-glare' and instructed Briggs to step out of the jeans. That, in itself, was probably worth videoing and submitting to 'You Tube'. Briggs could not keep his balance enough to lift his feet so Johnny and Mike tried to assist him. However, they didn't coordinate their moves and both lifted Briggs feet at the same time causing the man to fall back on the bed. The guys looked at each other, shrugged and pulled his jeans off the rest of the way. Briggs was a bit dazed by the whole episode and was still trying to figure out who to yell at.

Jakes took the opportunity of confusion to take a closer look at the exposed wound on Briggs' thigh, not liking what he saw. "Alright. Let's get that shirt off next."

To get the shirt off, they'd have to get Briggs to raise both his arms and that would irritate the wound on the shoulder. Alternatively, they could try to pull the shirt from the lower back edge, up his back and over his head, but it was going to hurt when it broke loose from where it was dried to abrasions on Paul's back. The safest solution was to cut it off like they do in the hospital. "Paul, we're going to have to cut that shirt off you."

"My favorite shirt? Ut-ah."

Paige left to get a pair of sharp scissors leaving Charlie to convince Paul it was going to be OK. Moving around to the other side of the bed she placed her hands on either side of his bearded cheeks. "I promise Paulie. I will buy you another shirt that you will really like to replace this one."

Paul looked at her grinning mischievously. "Ok. You have good taste. After all you slept with me."

Charlie laughed and gave Briggs a light slap on the cheek. "See," Charlie addressed Mike as she lifted her head. "There are no secrets in Graceland."

Paige returned with the sheers and handed them to Jakes who moved Charlie out of the way and carefully cut Briggs free from his shirt. The shirt was really stuck and by the time Jakes got it off, Mike had learned a whole lot of new curse words in Spanish. By the time the last piece of the shirt fell to the floor Paul's complexion was looking like someone had added a lot more cream to the coffee. "Don't pass out on me Paul," Jakes warned. The pain from the shirt removal had sobered Briggs up a bit and he did his best to hold onto reality.

Now that he was nearly nude, the housemates got a good look at Briggs' wounds. Johnny summed it up best with a low whistle. "Man Briggs. They got you good with that blade. And what the hell happened to your back?"

"Pier. Lost my bearings and slammed into it."

"Rookie mistake Bro."

"Tell me about it."

"So those abrasions all over your back came from barnacles? High chance of infection from those suckers," Jakes commented. Briggs gave a little so-what shrug. "And those knife wounds. They should be stitched. I think Mike was right on this one Briggs. You need professional medical help."

Briggs voice grew hard and deadly cold. "No."

"How about one of those urgent care centers?" Jakes suggested.

"Let me make this very clear. No medical facility of any kind. Not even a #ucking doctor that makes house calls. You either patch me up or get the hell out of my room. All of you," Briggs snarled.

The housemates looked at each other uneasily before Jakes finally spoke. "I'll do what I can which is," he shook his head skeptically, "clean them out and bandage them. But it's going to hurt like hell and I have nothing to give you to take the edge off the pain."

Briggs involuntarily shuddered at Jakes' words. Pain killers were the last thing he needed no matter how bad he wanted them. He could not take the chance they'd cause an avalanche. He'd been good for awhile and he was determined not to get sucked back in, no matter what. He'd deal with the pain, he had too; there was no other choice given his problem.

Jakes ran his hands through his dread-locks. "OK then, into the shower Briggs. We have to flush those wounds." Briggs stood with a little help from Johnny, then made his way to the on-suite. Jakes turned to the rest of them. "This is really going to get ugly. Why don't you all go downstairs."

"I'm staying," Charlie said in a determined tone. "You're gonna need help with him. He always has my back; now I need to have his."

Jakes nodded as the rest of them filed out. "Let's do this," Charlie said resolutely as she marched into the bathroom.

Briggs suffered in relative silence through the water but could not stifle his screams when Jakes applied the disinfectant. Tears flowed down his cheeks and by the time Jakes had bandaged the last wound, Briggs was physically and mentally exhausted.

Jakes cleaned up all the medical waste then headed for his room needing to chill. Charlie stayed with Briggs, stroking his shower-damp dark curls. His pain-filled, heavily hooded eyes stared up at her and she couldn't bear it.

"Paul," she whispered. "I have Vicodin. It will help."

Briggs reached out and grabbed her wrist, holding it so tight it was painful. "No."

"But…"

"No narcotics. Promise me Charlie. You can't let anyone give me anything," he pleaded with voice rough.

Looking into his eyes Charlie saw something she could not fathom, pure fear. "I promise Briggs."

Briggs gave a quick nod of acknowledgement and some of the tension drained from his body, enough to allow him to drift off to sleep. Charlie sat there stroking his hair letting her mind drain too; this had been more stressful than some of her worst busts.

Mike, Johnny and Paige stayed downstairs but the eerie silence after the tortured screams eventually made them quietly creep upstairs to see what was going on. They found both agents fast asleep on Briggs' bed, Charlie's hand resting protectively on Briggs. Paige gently shut the door and they headed for their own beds; it had been a long night for all.


	4. Chapter 4

A thin shaft of sunlight found its way through the heavy drapes in Agent Briggs' bed room and the ray crept across Charlie's face gently waking her. For a moment she was disorientated before the events of last night came flooding back and she quickly reached over to touch the man sleeping beside her. He stirred a little when she placed her hand on him but didn't wake up. Quietly as she could, she slipped off the bed and padded out of the room leaving Briggs to sleep. Rest was probably the best thing for him right now.

Food smells drifted up from the kitchen and after a bathroom restoration break she wandered downstairs finding the rest of her roommates in the kitchen.

"How is he?" Paige asked looking up from the eggs she was scrambling.

"Asleep," Charlie replied snagging a piece of toast off the plate in front of Mike.

"It sounded intense up there last night," Johnny mumbled around a mouthful of cereal.

Pouring herself a mug of coffee, Charlie perched on one of the counter stools and ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair. "It was."

Johnny vocalized what they all were thinking. "Why do you suppose Briggs fought us so hard about getting help?"

"Who knows? Probably afraid of compromising Graceland. You know how seriously Paul takes this houses' safety," Paige suggested scraping the eggs from the pan onto three plates.

"Yeah and Paul is kind of a private guy," Jakes added from over by the windows where he was perusing the paper. "Maybe he didn't want to take a chance of others finding out about this, Bureau or bad guys. Bad for his reputation."

"Wanted to maintain his 'legendary' status," Mike added jokingly accepting a plate from Paige.

"Oh yeah. Man of steel. Legend of the FBI. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound," Johnny quipped. "It's an astronaut, it's a drug dealer..."

"It's a Tae Bo instructor, it's a Zen master," Paige chimed in.

"It's a movie star," Mike added grinning mischievously.

"It's Agent Paul Briggs!" Johnny and Paige finished simultaneously giving each other high-fives.

Charlie remained silent, poking at her eggs during the exuberant exchange, but not participating. She was thinking about the promise she made to Paul last night wondering why it was so important to him.

Ever-observant, Mike noticed Charlie's silence. "Something wrong Charlie?" he asked as he scooped up a fork full of eggs.

"Its…nothing," she slowly replied. "Just a tough night." She slid off the stool and headed back upstairs, leaving her food unfinished. Paige, Mike and Johnny looked questioningly at each other.

"She's just tired," Jakes said folding the paper and placing it on the table. "Joking aside, it was rough last night; on all of us. It is hard seeing a person you know suffering." Jakes ran a hand over his face. "Those were some nasty wounds to be treating without the aid of pain killers. Not sure I could have handled it."

Johnny, trying to lighten the tension in the room joked, "Yeah but you are just Customs. We are the #ucking Bureau on Invincibility!"

Mike laughed and went back to eating his eggs. No matter what the others said, he still had a nagging feeling that there was more to Briggs' reaction than meets the eye. He'd definitely be keeping an eye on this one.


	5. Chapter 5

Briggs woke up feeling like crap; worse than crap whatever that was. He wanted to rollover and sink back into oblivion, but nature called and after last night's screaming, he didn't want to tarnish his legend further by pissing the bed.

Struggling, he got to his feet and fumbled his way into the bathroom. After taking care of business he splashed some cold water on his face which did nothing to help his disheveled appearance. Stumbling back into the bedroom he scanned about for the rum bottle before remembering he had emptied it last night. Pawing around his bed table drawer he found a bottle of Aleve and dry-swallowed three of them hoping they would take a little edge off the pain. What he really wanted to do was drink himself back into oblivion but that would require him to go downstairs and find some sort of liquid aid. Grumbling, he pulled on a pair of shorts but forgo the shirt. Besides, he was really hot and he wondered for a moment if the AC in the house was on the fritz.

When he finally made it downstairs, he found it mercifully empty. Making a beeline for the cache of liquor bottles, he searched until he found a new bottle of rum. Staring at the label of Sailor Jerry's finest, he finally came to his senses and realized while he needed something to drink, alcohol was probably not his best choice. Sighing, he put the bottle down and headed for the fridge where he snagged Jakes' OJ without a second thought. He actually felt a little bit better as the sweet cool nectar slid down his parched throat. Taking another healthy swig, he stood in the cool draft of the fridge and surveyed the contents; he probably should eat too but nothing much appealed to him. Flipping the door shut, he glanced over at the cabinets, visualizing what was behind those closed doors. Again, nothing really jumped out at him so moved over to the sofa with the bottle of OJ. That little bit of activity wiped him out and he sunk wearily onto the couch. It was hot down here too he noted as he drank more OJ. He'd have to get Paige to take a look at the house's cooling system; she was very good with mechanical systems. Placing the nearly empty bottle on the floor next to him, Paul gingerly stretched out on the couch on his 'good' side, the one without the knife cut in the shoulder and thigh. He inched forward so his barnacle-abraded back did not touch the rear cushions and promptly fell asleep.

He was still in that position hours later when two of his housemates wandered in from 'work'. Charlie had taken Mike with her, figuring if Paul was out of commission, someone had to take over the kid's training and better her than Johnny. When they discovered the senior agent on the couch, they took it as a good sign that Briggs had made it out of bed and downstairs. Charlie brushed a light hand over him as she walked by and was surprised at the heat radiating off his skin. Deliberately placing a hand on his forehead, she was shocked at how hot he felt. Before she could say anything to Mike who was inquisitively watching her, the front door opened admitting Paige and Johnny. "How's our boy doing?" Paige asked strolling over to where Charlie stood by the prone Briggs.

"Hot. Like really hot."

"Boy, Briggs is going to be sorry he was not awake to hear you say that Charlie," Johnny joshed on his way to the kitchen.

"No joke," Charlie said annoyed at Johnny's flippancy.

"We should take his temperature. I'll go find the thermometer." Paige headed upstairs to root through their medical supplies.

Johnny just couldn't resist. "If she gets one that goes in the nether region, are we going to draw straws to see who gets to insert it?"

Mike grimaced at Johnny and Charlie started to verbally ream him out but was interrupted by the arrival of the last missing housemate. "Say something stupid again Johnny?" Jakes observed catching the tail end of the dress down. Seeing Briggs on the couch his focus shifted. "I see he made it downstairs and of course drank my OJ," Jakes noted nudging the empty bottle with his toe. "Why do I bother to label?"

"Jakes, I think he is running a high temperature," Charlie said interrupting his reverie.

Jakes reached over and felt Brigg's forehead for himself. "You are right. Hot, very hot."

"Again Briggs misses the comment," Johnny quipped.

Charlie started yelling at Johnny again and all the commotion around him caused Briggs to wake up. He blearily registered Jakes' hand on his forehead. "Are we having some sort of 'kumbaya' moment?"

"Got it," Paige announced reentering the family room with the thermometer. "Don't worry. It goes in the mouth," she said holding it out to Briggs.

"Is this really necessary?" Briggs glanced at his roommates clustered around him. Judging by their faces, he knew he had no choice; either do it gracefully himself or have it stuck in him by one of these determined people. "Fine." Taking the thermometer from Paige he sat up with a slow groan and stuck it under his tongue.

"Leave it there until it beeps," Paige instructed.

"I know that," he grumpily replied around the object in his mouth.

"And don't talk," Charlie added. He didn't say a word but glared his displeasure at her and the whole situation. When it beeped, Charlie pulled it out before Briggs could even reach for it. Looking at it, she quietly showed it to the rest of the folks who had gathered around her.

"What?" Briggs asked irritably.

"Temp of 104. That's pretty high Briggs," Jakes said seriously. "Probably means an infection. You really need to seek some professional medical help on this one buddy."

"Let's just wait it out," Paul countered

"That's pretty dangerous Paul. A fever of a 104 in adults for more than a few hours can have adverse effects. Jakes is right. You really should go see a Doctor," Mike concluded.

"You quoting from the FBI manual again Warren?" Briggs asked sarcastically. "How about I take a swim in the cold ocean. Better yet how about I throw you in the ocean."

"Dude, you wouldn't even make it down the stairs to the beach before falling flat on your face," Johnny pointed out to Briggs.

Jakes crossed his arms over his chest. "Look. If you have an infection, which you probably do based on how you got those wounds, you need an antibiotic to combat it. You maybe not be DEA but even you know that legal drugs need a prescription which again, may I point out, means visiting a Doctor."

"You are trying to tell me I live in a house with two damn DEA agents and I have to go to the Doctors to get some drugs?" Briggs demanded. Various expression of shock crossed the housemate's faces at Briggs' outburst. Mike, as usual, gave the text book answer. "It would be wrong."

Briggs closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "That was a joke Mike." Wearily, he got up and made his way towards the staircase. "I'm gonna go sleep this off." He disappeared up the stairs and a few seconds later they heard his bedroom door slam shut.

"You can't sleep off an infection," Jakes said to nobody in particular as he too made his way out of the family room.

Johnny grabbed Mike by the arm. "Come on dude. Let's go hit Hectors. I'm starving. We'll bring something back for him," he said gesturing with his chin towards the second floor. "It will make him feel better. My mother always said sweat out a fever. We'll bring him the hottest thing Hector has on the menu." The two guys departed leaving Charlie and Paige alone.

"He won't go to see a Doctor."

Paige stared curiously at Charlie. "Do you know why?"

"Nope," the dark hair girl replied plopping down in a chair. "You know how he gets."

"Zen master axe murder. Sometimes it scares me what must go on in that tortured head of his."

Charlie nodded in agreement. "So what do we do?"

Paige stood up decisively. "We get him an antibiotic without going to a Doctor. I'm DEA and your FBI. Surely we can pull this off. How is your makeup artistry at painting infected looking wounds?"


	6. Chapter 6

They pulled up in front of a yellow house with a nice kept yard that housed a CI belonging to Paige. "This doesn't look like a pharmacy," Charlie noted.

Paige grinned. "Oh just wait and see. This place is like the super Wal-Mart of drugstores and it comes with its own pharmacist." They got out of the car and headed up the walk to the front door. "Remember, you're my friend with a little 'infection'."

Paige rang the bell and less than a minute later an older man of Indian decent answered the door. He glanced furtively around, scanning the street and driveway. "Paige, I wasn't expecting a visit from you today," he said nervously as he ushered them into the house and closed the door.

"Yeah," Paige said tossing her head and grinning. "I'm not here for information today Manoj. This is more of a personal manner. My friend here has a little problem."

"I see. Well please, come in, sit," he invited moving towards the kitchen table.

"Thanks," Paige said as they sat down. "Charlie cut herself real bad." Charlie took her cue and quickly flashed her midriff at the man giving him the slightest glimpse of what appeared to a nasty cut. "She is running a fever. We assume that means infection."

Manoj nodded his head as Paige spoke, clearly agreeing with her diagnosis.

"Charlie doesn't have any health insurance, just making end meet if you know what I mean."

Manoj's bobbing head indicated he certainly understood.

"She can't afford to go to a Doctor or even one of these clinics…"

"Say no more good friend Paige."

Paige smiled in gratitude that Manoj got it so quickly.

"Would you like me to examine the wound?"

Charlie quickly stood up and backed away, shaking her head no. "Sorry, but I don't trust strange men."

Manoj held his hands up to show he meant no harm. "My apologies. I did not mean to alarm you."

"It's alright Manoj. Charlie has had some rough experiences."

Charlie warily sat down.

"Ok. Since we do not know exactly what we are dealing with I think we should go with a good broad-spectrum antibiotic." Manoj paused to consider his options. "May I ask, is there any objections to using an intravenous type? They are quite effective ."

A quick glance of understanding pasted between Paige and Charlie. Considering that Briggs occasionally had to 'shoot up' with hemoglobin as part of his undercover operations, they didn't think administrating something intravenously would be a problem. "Not an issue," Paige answered.

"Ok then I recommend Invanz. Developed by Merck. Reliable company."

"If you say so," Paige said rolling her eyes at Charlie.

"Good. Good. I have it in stock. I will write the instructions down for you." Manoj got up and disappeared to the back of the house leaving the girls alone.

"And how do you know this guy again?" Charlie whispered.

"He is a CI. He was a pharmacist in India before he came to the US. He is unable to work here because he does meet the qualifications. So instead he runs an off-the-record pharmacy."

"Isn't the DEA afraid he will kill somebody?" Charlie inquired.

"No. It's not like that. Manoj supplies prescription drugs to illegal Doctors. He normally doesn't prescribe himself, except in a few special cases. When we got wind of Manoj's activities, instead of busting him we turned him into a CI. We use his connections to get to those bigger fish. He has helped us take down some major suppliers."

"Doesn't that sort of cramp his style, when he keeps losing his suppliers?"

"Manoj is good. He keeps finding new sources."

"And the DEA is not concerned about the illegal Doctors that prescribe these illegal prescription drugs?"

Paige shrugged looking a bit blasé. "Not my department's mission lane. We only get the drugs off the street not the quacks."

The girls fell silent as Manoj came back into the room. He set a plastic Wal-Mart bag filled with stuff on the table. "Use 1g diluted with 3.2ml of 1% lidocaine and give intramuscularly. I wrote it down on a piece of paper. I have also included the lidocaine and syringes."

"One stop shopping," Paige said taking the bag. "What do I owe you Manoj?"

Manoj raised his hands and shook them in concert with his head. "No. No. No. This is a gift."

Paige was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth so she rose and with Charlie in tow headed for the door. After a few more words of thanks the two agents were back outside and in their car.

"See that was easy," Paige said starting the engine and pulling into the street.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "You think getting Briggs to shot up will be just as easy?" she joked.

"Of course. He is a pro ya know." Both girls laughed as they headed home from their successful, but off the books, mission.


	7. Chapter 7

Johnny and Mike returned from Hectors with a bag of food. "Go upstairs and see if Briggs wants to eat," Johnny suggested dropping the sack on the kitchen counter.

But Mike wasn't stupid or so said the FBI practicals. "Doesn't Briggs typically throw things at people who disturb him?"

"Only his flips and an occasional book. I know he always reminds you he has a gun but I have never actually seen him pull it on one of us."

"I have," Mike muttered under his breath.

"Leave him alone guys," the voice of Jakes drifted into the room as he came down the stairs. "I just checked on him. He is still running that high fever and is in a lot of pain. Nothing in that bag from Hectors is going to solve those problems."

"Still 104?" Mike inquired.

Jakes winced and shrugged. "103, 104, what's a degree among friends. Still too high. But the man won't listen and I'm not his mother."

"Maybe we should ignore what he says and drag him to the hospital anyway," Mike proposed.

"You go ahead and do that Mikey. But make sure you let me know when you are gonna try, cause I want a front row seat Bro," Johnny said flopping down in a chair.

Frustrated, Mike ran a hand through his hair. "Well there must be something we can do to help. Can't you call Briggs' supervisor?"

"Oh you mean the one Brigg's refers to as 'Dick'. Funny though, I thought his first name was Harry. Yeah that is a real good idea Mike…Not."

Further discussion was halted by the arrival of Charlie and Paige and their magic Wal-Mart bag. "Got the solution guys."

"At Wal-Mart?" Johnny quizzed.

"Invanz," Paige continued holding the bag aloft.

"Lauren is gone. Who has connections with the Russian mafia?" Johnny asked clearly puzzled.

Jakes examined the contents of the bag Paige set in front of him. "Invanz is a broad-spectrum antibiotic," he said slowly reading the package. "Administered intravenously," he added as he held up the package of sealed syringes.

"Yep," Charlie said as she grabbed the package of needles. "I have an infection."

"You do?" Mike asked joining the group. "You faked an infection, so you could see a Doctor, to get this stuff?"

"Not exactly," Paige said taking the bag of syringes back from Charlie. "A story for another day Mike. Now, let's get this stuff into Briggs."

Jakes grabbed the Wal-Mart bag of drugs but Paige took it away from him. "I know you are the closest thing we have to any medical expertise in this house Jakes, but I think this might be better handled by Charlie and me. Paul is less likely to go postal on us."

Jakes and Johnny nodded their heads at the wise suggestion and Mike figured it was another house story he'd learn about in time.

The girls headed up the stairs and Jakes clapped his hands together. "That is that fellows. Now I think I will see what is in that Hectors bag you boys brought back. I seriously doubt Briggs is gonna want to eat anything," he said peering in the bag. "After all he is sick." Jakes reached into the bag, pulled out a taco and took a big bite. "Paybacks a bitch," he said swiping his tongue across his lips. "Here's to all my milk, OJ and cereal," he toasted as he walked out of the room.

Johnny looked over at Mike. "Wanna play some video games Mike? If we turn the sound up we won't hear what is going on upstairs. Plausible deniability."

"Sounds like a plan."


	8. Chapter 8

Charlie and Paige walked into Brigg's bedroom with their bag containing the antibiotic. The agent was sprawled across his bed on top of all the covers. Paige took the bag over to the table by the window to prepare the syringe. Charlie tried to wake Briggs who was drifting in and out of consciousness because of the high fever. "I think we are going to have to do this without his cooperation," Charlie said unable to rouse the man.

Paige held up the loaded needle. "The package says intramuscular. Butt or bicep?"

Charlie smirked. "The butt would make for a better story but…"

"Bicep it is. Wipe down his skin," Paige instructed, handing Charlie a disinfectant pad. After carefully bleeding out the air, Paige walked over to the bed with the syringe. "Here we go."

Briggs was dreaming that he was at a drug bust that was going wrong when he suddenly felt something prick his arm. Panicking, he tried to pull his arm away but someone was holding it in place. Unable to break free, he cocked his fist and slammed it into the shadowy face that was injecting him, knocking them across the room. The needle dropped to the floor and Briggs saw a second shadowy figure try to retrieve it so he kicked out with his good leg catching the figure in the shoulder and spinning them away.

Silence settled over the room as Briggs struggled to fully regain consciousness and make sense of what was going on. He sat up on the edge of the bed, scrubbing his hands across his face. Slowly, he realized that he'd been dreaming. Briggs removed his hands from his face and scanned the room. Oh shit," he cursed when his vision cleared enough for him to comprehend that it was Paige and Charlie he had hit.

He hastily tried to stand but his knees buckled and he slid to the floor. In desperation, he crawled on his hands and knees to where Paige was sitting on the floor cradling her face. When he got next to her, he gently reached over removing her hands from in front of her face. He bowed his head and tears welled in his eyes when he saw what he'd done to her. "Oh God Paige. I am so sorry," he apologized.

Paige gave him weak grin. "It was an accident Paul. Shouldn't startle an FBI agent."

Briggs covered his face with his hands dropping them to his knees. This was his worst nightmare; hurting one of his own people especially since Paul knew it was his habit that had caused him to overreact.

"Hey. It's alright Paul," Charlie said coming up beside of him and laying her hand on his good shoulder. "We surprised you and you defended yourself."

Raising his head, he gazed at Paige, his eyes bright with moisture. He gently traced his fore-finger down the side of her injured face. "It is not alright," he said vehemently. "It is #ucking not. I hurt… I struck…" but he was so choked up he couldn't continue and resorted to shaking his head in denial. Briggs dropped his head to his knees again. "Get out of here," he ordered softly.

"But Paul…" Charlie started.

Briggs raised his head shouting at them. "God damn it. Get out of here."

Charlie helped Paige to her feet. They both looked over at the half empty syringe; they hadn't got it all injected. "But Paul, we need to finish…" Charlie started but Briggs cut her off.

"The only thing you need to do is leave," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Charlie looked over at Paige again who shrugged helplessly. "Ok Paul," Charlie said softly and the ladies left the room gently shutting the door. They slowly made their way downstairs where they immediately came under the scrutiny of the rest of the roommates.

"What happened?" Johnny asked looking at Paige's face while dropping the video controller on the table.

"Nothing. Nothing happened," Charlie said brusquely as she went to the freezer, removed an ice pack and handed it to Paige.

Mike got up from the couch and walked over to Paige to examine her face. "That looks like someone hit you."

"Guess we now know why Warren graduated top in his class," Jakes said sardonically.

"Back off newbie," Charlie warned Mike. "It was an accident."

Mike took a step back and raised his hands as a sign of peace. Paige sat down on the couch next to Jakes who leaned over and took a good look at her face. "Seriously. What did happen?" the ICE agent asked, concerned.

Paige sighed and fiddled with the ice pack. "We tried to stick a needle in a semi-conscious, highly trained, paranoid, FBI agent and he fought back."

Charlie flopped down on the opposite sofa. "Yeah. I don't know who the hell he thought we were but he did a decent job in fighting us off, even in his condition. But," she said looking directly at Mike. "It was an accident."

Mike shrugged but did not push the issue.

Paige glanced around the room at the housemates. "I'm Ok. Really. Trust me; Paul is taking this way harder than me."

"So what's do we do now?" Mike asked.

"We do nothing. If I know Briggs, he is sitting up there beating himself up more severely than anyone else could," Charlie stated matter-of-factly.

The house settled into an unnatural silence. Eventually, Charlie and Paige retreated to their rooms while Johnny and Mike tried to pick up where they left off in their game, but neither had their head in the game so they too decided to call it a night.

Upstairs Briggs remained sitting on the floor staring out the window at the ocean until, exhausted, he simply slumped over and fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Rising early the next morning, Paige went to the bathroom mirror and examined the large black and blue bruise on her cheek; Briggs did a good job. However, as she had truthfully told her roommates, she was not upset with him. She and Charlie had been stupid trying to inject Paul without him understanding what was going on. For whom he was, and what he did, his reaction was normal; Ok maybe slightly over the top, but Briggs was an intense guy. She had already let it go and moved past it; now she had to convince him to to do the same.

Walking down to his room, she knocked on the closed door. After waiting a bit and receiving no acknowledgement, she slowly opened the door and entered his room anyway. She found him sitting in a chair, facing the ocean, over by bank of windows. She quietly slipped into the other chair and appraised him. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

Briggs shrugged and continued to stare at the sea.

She reached out and softly touched his skin. "You seem a little better this morning," she ventured. Paul jerked his head at the table and Paige saw an empty syringe lying on the table. "You used the antibiotics?"

Briggs winced. "You and Charlie went through all the trouble to get them."

"You would have done the same for any of us Paul."

He turned to stare at her with blood shot eyes. "And I repaid you by punching you in the face," he replied with an edge of bitterness to his voice. Dropping his gaze, he turned back towards the ocean.

"Do you need help with…"

"I can take it from here," he replied curtly.

"You know I don't blame you."

"That's your mistake. You should. I do." In voice was as close to pleading as Paige had ever heard from Briggs he added, "Please. Go."

Knowing she was not going to convince him of anything, she nodded wistfully and left. Heading back to her room she ran across Charlie. "How is he?" she asked heading for Briggs room.

Paige laid a gentle hand on her arm. "He wants to be left alone."

"That bad huh."

"Wounded, brooding, self-hating, total lone-wolf."

The two headed down to the kitchen. Snagging their morning coffee, they perched on the kitchen stools.

"He gave himself another antibiotic shot," Paige said after taking a sip of her java.

"That's good."

"Hmmm. Think his temp has come down," Paige agreed reluctantly.

"But…"

Paige sighed deeply. "But he hasn't forgiven himself… for what happened last night… for what he did to us."

Charlie grimaced, knowing Paige's assessment was on target.

"Remember after Donnie got shut, all the trouble Lauren got in?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah. Briggs really went to bat for her."

"Yeah. You know he went after that Russian, personally. The one Lauren said beat her."

Charlie sipped her coffee before replying. "Briggs doesn't like when his 'family' gets hurt."

"Yeah." Paige shook her head slowly in agreement. "But when he found out Lauren lied to him, used him, he went inner-ballistic. He was so pissed at Laruen but you know what? I should have been just as pissed at him. Briggs used me, Charlie, as much as Lauren used him. He used me to get Lauren kicked out of the house."

"You were his unsuspecting wing-man. "

"And I didn't even see it coming. He's good."

"Damn good," Charlie agreed. "A legend. But it was for the good of the house." Charlie set her cup down and stared hard at Paige. "That is what Briggs does, uses people; the bad guys and the good guys. And he is really, really good at it."

"When the bad guys do it, we call it manipulation," Paige pointed out and Charlie shook her head in agreement. "But when Briggs does it, we call it justice… or at least he does…. in his mind," Paige concluded.

Charlie thought back to the Briggs she first met when she came to Graceland then to the man she knew today; same guy but not same guy. "Remember this, whatever Briggs does is for the safety of this house and its occupants. You know this Paige."

"I do and I trust him with my life. But I'm a little afraid, Charlie. What happened last night… will it change my dynamic with Briggs? Will he try to get me kicked out of the house for some reason?"

"You did nothing wrong." Charlie studied her with concern. "Are you afraid of Briggs, Paige?"

Paige laughed ruefully. "I'm always a bit afraid of him, even before last night. He is…"

"Intense, powerful, charismatic, extreme, passionate..."

"Yeah and he switches…"

"Between personalities…"

"So damn quickly…"

"And," Charlie leaned forward, "Leaves you wondering who the real Briggs is."

"Do you know, Charlie? The real Briggs?"

"I have no #ucking idea. But I'll tell you what; whoever he is… or isn't… there is one thing I know straight up…he'll protect us no matter what. His safety," Charlie shrugged, "Secondary. He might keep things close his vest, play things a little too hard but that's Briggs. I trust him with my life."

As Mike walked into the kitchen, he noticed the two girls deep in what looked like a serious conversation. Fixing a bowl of cereal, he strolled over and sat next to them. After taking in Paige's face he remarked, "Briggs nailed you good last night."

"Mike, it was an accident," she shot back, annoyed at his inference.

"Yeah…I'm sure it was. It's just…"

Charlie interrupted him. "Let it go Mike."

Mike raised his hand in mock-surrender and went about eating his cereal even as he filed this incident away in his 'odd Briggs' behavior folder. Mike knew in his gut there was more to this whole incident and one day he would figure out what was really going on with Briggs. After all, that is why he was here instead of DC.


	10. Chapter 10

Later that night, Paige, Johnny, Charlie and Jakes were sitting around the coffee table eating Thai takeout when Paul came downstairs. "Hey my man, good to see you up and about," Johnny greeted him.

Paul gave a half-smile. "It's good to be up. Thai night huh?"

"Plenty of food Paul. Come join us," Paige invited pushing Johnny aside and patting the cushion next to her for Briggs to sit

"Sheesh," Johnny grumbled ungraciously moving over. "It's not like he is some returning war hero. Its' just a few little scratches."

Briggs winced as he sat on the couch, something that was not missed by the roommates but Briggs underplayed it. "Another day or two and I'll be good as new." Grabbing a pair of chopsticks and a carton, he picked at the food, stirring it around more than eating it.

"You need help changing those bandages?" Jakes inquired.

"Nah," Paul replied in a bored tone. "Got it under control."

"Still taking the antibiotics?" Mike questioned.

Briggs set the carton down on the table giving Mike a curious look before turning to Paige. "That I am, after all the trouble the ladies went thru."

"Damn straight," Charlie confirmed. "And you better take every last dose or Paige and I are going to come into your room make you."

"And things will be different next time. We underestimated your once Paul, never again," Paige finished in a mock-serious tone. "Next time, handcuffs first."

Paul smirked. "Works for me. I hear and obey."

Johnny nearly spit out his mouth full of food laughing. "You may hear Bro, but I have never seen you obey and I'm not sure you even really listen."

Briggs got up from the sofa swatting Johnny on the side of the head as he walked to the fridge. "You'd be surprised what I hear Johnny." He pulled a cold beer out, took off the cap and cupped it in his palm. "Ladies and whatever you guys are, I'm out of here. I plan to hit the surf bright and early."

"You sure you're up to that Paul?" Charlie asked concerned.

"Never fear. Johnny here," he said throwing the beer cap at the forenamed and bouncing it off his head, "is gonna be right there beside me as my personal lifeguard, aren't you JT?"

"That's messed up," Johnny said digging the bottle cap out of his hoodie. "Take Mikey."

"Would if I could, but until he can figure how to stay on his board, I'll just be spending all my time rescuing him. But hey Michael, join us. Practice makes perfect. 0700, on the beach. Don't be late." With that, he took his beer and disappeared upstairs.

"Unreal," Johnny said reclaiming his place on the couch.

"Briggs," said Charlie.


End file.
